


You Never Asked to Be a Hero (But for Him You'd Be Anything)

by holyfudgebars



Category: Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Relationship(s), Reluctant Hero, Sexual Content, Uncomfortable Jauffre
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2013-01-05
Packaged: 2017-11-23 21:11:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/626562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holyfudgebars/pseuds/holyfudgebars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You just wanted to escape your cell. You never wanted to save anyone. You didn't want to be placed in this "Oblivion Crisis". And you never, ever, in all your days, expected to fall in love with the future emperor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Never Asked to Be a Hero (But for Him You'd Be Anything)

You think very little of Martin Septim when you first meet him. You were, if anything, a bit spiteful, to be honest. 

You had been freed from prison by seemingly lucky chance only to now be thrust into battle for a city you didn't really care about, a sword tossed carelessly into your hand. You do not argue, you think they would kill you if you did, or better yet force you through the imposing gate anyway. So you square your shoulders and you march into the gate at Kvatch, knowing no one expects you to make it out and you're just as surprised as them when you do. Now you find yourself standing in front of this man you've been put through hell over and you can't help but feel anger bubbling inside the bottom of your stomach. You decide to hate this Brother Martin from this moment on with everything that you are . . . you cannot. 

You cannot hate him after listening to him. He has been shoved into this by the damn divines just like you. Or maybe it wasn't the Nine. Who could really say if this was nothing but unfortunate circumstances? Either way, you pity him as those around you praise you as a hero. 

A hero you never asked to be.

You begin to notice him more and more as you assist the Blades at Cloud Ruler Temple with their duties while attending to your own affairs. You've settled down since the incident in Kvatch and even managed to buy a house. It's nice, your brief moments of calm you get when you return to your home. You wonder if Martin is allowed calms with all this chaos following him like his own shadow. You quickly force the thought out of your head. You don't care. You just want to pay back the debt you owe to these people for saving you (though they didn't even really do that). Someone addresses you and you hide your frown. You are so tired of hearing “The Hero of Kvatch.” You answer their questions and silently swear to yourself to maim the next person that calls you “Hero”. 

And that's when you hear it from behind you. Your name, someone at this damned temple knows it and has bothered to use it. You turn and stare at Martin Septim smiling at you. He thanks you for saving his life, mentioning something about not doing it properly the first time you meet and asks how you've been holding up. You part your lips to speak (a tad dumfounded) and as soon as you do Jauffre calls him away, leaving you to shut your mouth stupidly, a frown touching your features. Martin seems to take no notice of your actions and bids you farewell using your name again and mentions that the two of you will finish this talk later. You stare after him.

Martin Septim quickly becomes a frequent thought for you.

You begin to visit Cloud Ruler more with the excuse of concern for the temple's security guiding you. This is of course a flimsy excuse you're using to cover your true motives. You talk more and more with Martin on each visit and soon you find yourself staying there for days at a time. You pass your afternoons training with the other Blades and spend your nights either telling stories for the soldiers there or assisting Martin with his research, though you often prefer the latter. 

The two of you soon become inseparable.

You are always found at each others side when you're there. You laugh with each other and you share your interests with one another. You find out he has interest with ruins and slip away one night, coming back the next morn sporting an armful of Welkynd stones and a few colorful bruises. He was not completely pleased, but he was at the very least amused with your antics. 

You share your moments of peace with him. Whether it be in his study, lounging about in loose clothes, enjoying the summer in the mountains, or standing in the courtyard, eyes fixed to the cold clear winter night sky, watching the stars as they flicker, brightening and dimming. 

You share your pasts. You listen as he tells you everything about his past with Daedric magic and comfort away any lingering regrets he may have. You kiss his forehead and it is meant to be chaste but the way he looks at you. You cannot help bringing your lips to his and passion quickly takes hold of you both. You pull away from the kiss breathless and panting and flushed and he gives you a small smile. A single thought pierces your foggy mind. 

You can't.

You jerk away in a panic, leaving Martin shocked, and you quickly leave his room. He makes an attempt to pursue you but you are much quicker than him and you lose him easily. He is to be emperor and save the world from the Daedra threat and you’re to be protecting him nothing more. Anything thing more would make things too complicated. You flee the temple that night and you do not return.

You have never felt stupider. 

You pace back and forth as you fidget with your hands outside of the doors to the temple. You've been gone for two weeks since your encounter with Martin and you been outside of Cloud Ruler for fifteen minutes now and you still have not worked up the courage to walk through those two imposing doors. 

They may only seem intimidating due to your current situation though. 

You aren't really sure, you don't really care. In fact the only thing you have really cared about lately is seeing Martin and trying to explain yourself. Even then, you don't want to have to tell him that you two not having a relationship is better for everyone (except yourselves). You want to be selfish and kiss him again, over and over, but neither of your duties really calls for either of you to be distracted with the other. Who knows if he even wants a relationship with you? A sigh leaves your mouth and you frown, turning towards the temple. You have to go in, you must . . . you can't. As you make the decision to turn and leave and try again another day the doors to the temple open and you freeze like a startled deer.

Jauffre stares at you, an eyebrow raised inquisitively before he motions you into the courtyard, you following reluctantly. He takes a moment to greet you and begins to prattle on about the status of things. You don't really pay attention as the two of you walk through the courtyard. He makes sure to congratulate you on the number of gates you've closed and you mumble in thanks. It's when spies are mentioned that you snap to attention. You weren't sure who in their right mind, Mythic Dawn or not, would dare try to spy on the Blades. Jauffre moves towards the door to the Great Hall and your footfalls stop behind him rather abruptly. He turns to stare at you and you spout something about finding the spies now, no time to spare. 

You're gone out the door before anything else can be said.

You see Martin again the next day as you're pulled through the temple, a gash torn in your skin down your arm from your shoulder to your elbow. The Blades around you are shouting at one another to get out of the way and to make room for you. You’re tossed into a pile of blankets as one of the men more skilled in restoration begins to tend to your wound. You spy Martin lingering in the doorway watching you, concern on his strong face, and you swallow down the lump of guilt you feel building in your throat. He's blocked by Jauffre bustling into the room demanding to know what happened and you calmly explain that the second spy you were sent to find after you turned in the first had sneaked up on you and dug his dagger in your arm. You assured them that the man was dead though and that you would be fine right before you blacked out, succumbing to the loss of blood you had endured.

You open your eyes later that night squinting against the candlelight in the room. You are no longer on the floor of the blades quarters, instead you're in a soft large bed. You grunt as you roll over and Martin turns from where he sits at his desk, a tired smile gracing hips lips. He makes his way to your side and asks how you are. You manage a weak smile as an answer and apologize to him for all of the trouble you caused. You being to prattle about how you would be fine, that you were sorry for taking his bed and he lifts your hand to his lips kissing it gently, effectively silencing you. Your eyes flick to meet his and you realize that he's testing his ground, he wants to see how he's allowed before he's pushed away. 

You feel the guilt build again and at the same time you notice how lovely those blue eyes are and you quietly realize that you don't care about Cyrodiil. You were tossed in jail, forgotten by them. You didn't really hold any love for this land or some of its more selfish people for that matter. You realize what holds your love, though, as you gaze back at the future emperor of Cyrodiil. It's him, it's him and everything he believes in, it's him and the way he looking at you and the people he wants to save and how desperately he now believes that the two of you can save these lands.

Martin Septim holds your heart; you don't want it anywhere else.

You kiss him desperate in your actions, your arm that isn't wounded winding around his neck tugging him closer. It takes you a moment to realize the needy whimper you hear is yours. He's kissing you back and the bed creaks under his added weight as he moves to join you on it. He pulls you closer and you break away long enough to take a breath of air and say his name before your lips meet again with an almost bruising force fueled by need. You say his name again as he slides his hands in between your legs rubbing at you through your clothes. He kisses along your ear licking and sucking as you rut against his hand, your voice reduced to breathy moans. You tell him that you need him and he moves to slide his hand under your clothes as the door to his room slides open. Both of you freeze and turn your heads to look at the figure standing in the doorway.

Jauffre stares flatly at the two of you before sitting the tray of food down, making an offhand comment about how you needed your rest and turning on his heel leaving the room as quickly as he came, sliding the door shut behind him. You know for a fact you would both be getting a lecture tomorrow, the only reason you didn't get scolded now was probably because he was so shocked. The two of you begin to laugh in an effort to hide your embarrassment and settle against each other, the previous activities forgotten for the moment. He tells you that he loves you and you nuzzle your face in his throat and whisper the same. 

For the first time in a long time, you are completely content.

**Author's Note:**

> The next chapter will be no where near as fluffy for I am a cruel mistress. Look forward to ANGST.
> 
> Edited by my greatest friend, Mr.Ninjafist


End file.
